


Jack Off

by conceptofzero



Category: BioShock
Genre: Other, ambeegious consent, beestality, inappropriate plasmid usage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1592237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's a young man and he's got some experimentation to catch up on. Post-Rapture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Electrobolt

Everyone’s asleep when Jack slips out of the house and heads to the barn. He doesn’t like leaving Tenenbaum and the girls alone for too long, but he can’t do this around them. There would be too many questions that he doesn’t want to answer, and some misconceptions about the way other men are. Jack wants them to have a normal life, or as normal a life as they can. That means no strange questions if he can help it. 

Jack lets himself into the barn and climbs the ladder into the hayloft. It’s empty up here at this time of year. Everything’s out at pasture and there’s no animals around to spook nor hay to accidentally ignite. He pauses to reach up into the rafters, his fingers sliding over the beam until he finds a pack of cigarettes. Jack takes it, making a note to himself to go buy some more next time he’s alone in town. 

He finds a comfy spot (or as comfy as you can in a barn) and lights the first cigarette. Jack’s never much enjoyed the taste of them, but he’s not smoking them because they taste good. From the very first puff, he can feel his veins starting to tingle, filling with EVE. It’s not as good as the rush he used to get from the syringes, but he ran out of those a long time ago. Now he contents himself with burning his way through a pack until he’s got a charge. 

The moon slowly crawls across the sky and Jack chain-smokes the pack until it’s empty and his sweater smells like a bar. He carefully tucks each butt into the empty pack and then sets it to the side. With his left hand, he gets his fly open and eases his cock out. With his right, he focuses carefully. The EVE surges in him and his hand lights up with the familiar arcing of the Electrobolt. It feels good to have it back, to feel it crawling over his skin. His left hand strokes his cock a few times and he gets mostly hard just from the anticipation. 

This isn’t the first time he’s done this. Jack hovers his right index finger over the tip of his cock, watching the blue light reflect against his flesh. It’s a very pretty sight. He could watch it a long time, but there’s only so much EVE and he can’t afford to waste it on a lightshow. With his veins singing, he takes a deep breath and gently zaps himself. 

Jack’s whole body goes stiff, his muscles winding tight as the bolt goes through him. It hurts, but it’s a good kind of hurt. Jack’s fingers tremble as he touches himself again, another hard shock jolting through him. He can’t hurt himself, not seriously anyway, but he can still get a reaction from his body. In his left hand, his cock twitches and leaks a little, fully erect after those two pulses. When he gets control over his muscles again, Jack starts to stroke himself again, breathing heavily in the quiet of the barn. 

This time, he puts two fingers on his cock and lets the electricity flow into him. His teeth clench together hard and Jack’s whole body twists in on itself, pulling tight as the Electrobolt paralyzes him. The blue fire crawls on his hand and through his cock, coming to a quick end when contact between them is broken. Jack gasps for air and sprawls on his back in the hayloft, all of him tense and desperate. 

His left hand drops away from his cock. It juts up, leaking precum and twitching now and then. All he can do is breathe through his nose as he prepares himself for what comes next. His right palm is open, his fingers slightly curled as he brings his hand close to his erection. Jack just watches as the little bolts occasionally jump from his palm to his cock, making him grunt softly. 

Jack turns onto his side, braces himself, and wraps his plasmid-covered hand around the shaft. The effect is instantaneous. The sound that comes out of Jack isn’t quite a moan, but it’s what you’d get if you were trying to do that through clenched teeth and a closing windpipe. His hips thrust forward just the once before they’re locked into position. In his hand, his cock jolts along with the rest of him, and then he’s damn near blinded as he comes, seeing white and feeling that overwhelming punch of pleasure and pain. 

The EVE runs out and his grip on his cock loosens, leaving Jack desperately sucking wind. He feels so weak and spent, curled up on the wood floor. There’s a little puddle of something in front of him, the messy remains of him jerking off. Jack can’t move and he doesn’t want to, content to just lay curled in a nearly fetal position, his muscles desperately quaking and straining from the involuntary contractions he put them through. He’s sore but he feels good, his body flooded with all kinds of endorphins. 

Jack’s not sure how long he lies there before he finally finds the strength to tuck himself back in, zipping up the fly and feeling warmth return to him. The next thing he manages it to wipe up the mess using a handkerchief, carefully folding it so the mess is on the inside. He’ll have to wash that, along with his sweater and pants. Jack should move but he doesn’t, continuing to lie still until his muscles stop clenching now and then. 

Climbing back down is much harder than climbing up and he takes his time. His legs are weak when he walks out of the barn, but he feels relaxed and ready to sleep. The empty pack of cigarettes goes into the burning barrel, shoved underneath newspaper and twine and all sorts of other things to be set on fire when there’s a full load. There are a few other packs of cigarettes in there, buried deep beneath layers of paper trash. Jack doesn’t keep track of how often he does this, though maybe he should. 

When he returns to the house, he goes straight to his room, shoving his dirty, smokey things in a container where the smell won’t fill the house. Then he crawls into his bed. His body aches and his right arm feels heavy, just as it always does when he runs out of EVE. Still, Jack couldn’t be more content than he is at this moment. That was exactly what he needed. He’s barely finished that thought before he slips into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	2. Enrage

It does nothing for him. Well. It’s not entirely unpleasant. It doesn’t hurt him at any rate. It just doesn’t really do anything for him. 

This time, Jack takes off his pants, even though it’s a bit of a risky move. Not that he expects anyone to come by the barn at three a.m. but he prefers to be prepared. He also prefers that it not be obvious that he’s been hiding in the barn and experimenting with plasmids in ways he knows where never part of their initial testing. Though… he also doubts he’s the first person to look at the drippy bloated ball of red goo in his fist and wonder what it’ll feel like to have it on his skin. 

The answer is ‘damp and cold’. It’s also a little tingly, but he suspects he might also be imagining that. He fists his cock and strokes himself, occasionally squeezing more liquid over himself by crushing the ball in the palm of his hand. It’s okay as far as lube goes, but it’s nothing special, nothing worth smoking a whole pack of cigarettes over anyway. When he comes, he does so hunched over, shoulders shaking a little. He feels nothing except irritation at the time he wasted, and a general stickiness that he can’t wait to wash off. 

He crosses it off the list of things he’s willing to experiment with, along with Bullseye and Hypnotize. It’s not like either of those can do much of anything down here anyway. Jack had hoped maybe Enrage would fill him with some sort of emotion, get his blood boiling. There’s nothing Bullseye could even work on, and he doesn’t want to think about fucking a Big Daddy. 

Jack’s been drilled by enough of them for one lifetime.


	3. Incinerate

It takes a lot to work himself up to trying out Incinerate. He knows he can’t set himself on fire, but that doesn’t mean he wants to try it, just in case he’s wrong about that. Maybe it’s only his hand that’s fully immune. Maybe it’ll hurt in ways the Electrobolt never has. 

But Jack’s been thinking about it for a while now and so when he retreats to the hayloft late at night, he ends up stripping nude, carefully setting his clothes where they’re unlikely to accidentally catch on fire. He remembers something vaguely from his childhood (his not-childhood, he mentally corrects himself) about how dangerous it is to start fires on the farm outside of designated areas and with adult supervision.

Well, he’s an adult isn’t he? This is certainly under his supervision. He sits with his knees against his chest as he powers through a pack of cigarettes, half-tempted to light them with Incinerate as he smokes. Jack doesn’t though, wanting to save the EVE for his other planned activity. When the last cigarette is down to the butt, he stubs it out and puts it with the rest. Only then does he conjure up fire, letting it explode across his skin. 

So far so good he thinks. The night air is cold and the heat from his hand feels good as he brings it near his body, letting it warm his chest and stomach, and then other parts as it sinks southward. On the way down, he tentatively touches his belly, trusting that if he’s wrong about this that he’ll be able to at least hide this burn. He only lightly scalds the flesh there, gritting his teeth a little at the way his body tenses hard, but there’s no marks left behind. That’s a good sign, but he knows there’s only one thing left to do. 

Jack’s hand comes to a stop just above his groin. His cock immediately responds to the heat, stiffening a little as if to get closer to the flames. Jack bites his lip, focusing as he carefully brings his fingers close and traces around his shaft. His fingers don’t touch the flesh, not just yet anyway, choosing instead to skirt close enough that he can feel the scorching heat. It brings to mind memories of sunburns and how the heat clung to his skin. It’s not entirely pleasant, but he’d be lying to say it was entirely unpleasant either.

When he’s ready (or, at ready as you can be when you’re about to touch direct flames to the most sensitive area of your body), he brings two fingers together and runs them over the head of his cock quickly. It’s quick but he gasps all the same, his cock going hard instantly the moment the flames kiss his skin. Jack has to fight to get his breathing in order, a little shaken by how much he liked it. His eyes quickly seek out any damage or blisters, but nothing that he can see. Everything’s the way it was before he touched himself, except that he can still feel the heat from the flames, making his cock ache a little. 

He touches himself again, this time moving slower and more willing to linger. Heat spirals through him and Jack grits his teeth to hold back the whine building in his throat. His hand is so hot that the precum dribbling out of him starts to dry up the moment his fingers slide up his shaft and stroke over the head. Through contact between the flames and his flesh is gentle and mostly brief, it makes his flesh throb with something stuck between pain and pleasure. The quick touches give way to longer explorations, periods where he just strokes his fingers up and down the underside of his shaft, feeling the flesh twitch towards him each time he lifts his fingers away. All of him feels like it’s on fire, and when he lies back against the boards, the cold wood is a sweet relief. Maybe he should use Winter Blast now, switch between fire and ice. 

Not yet, not when there are things he still wants to do. There’s something left, something he’s been curious about since the thought to use Incinerate first occurred. Jack raises his hand, hovering the open palm above his erection. His breathing is a little strained from the anticipation and from the worry that what he’s about to do is going to end with third degree burns. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he’s come too far to back down now. Jack takes aim and splashes a wave of fire over his groin and thighs. 

The reaction is involuntary and instantaneous, his hips jerking up into the dissipating burst of flames while he writhes against the boards. Jack’s been on fire before and that’s the closest comparison he can make, even though that’s not quite right. Being on fire was painful. This is… something else. The heat is good but it’s the way the flames lick over his body that feels even better, the sudden rush of cold, hot, cold as the fire breaks over his skin and evaporates. He hits himself again with another blast and grunts helplessly as it sweeps over him. The blast of heat engulfs him and then leaves him cold and wanting, desperate to feel the same rush again. If he’d known it would feel this good, he would have done it earlier, and more of it. But the EVE’s already getting low and Jack knows he’s only got one more blast left in him.

He wraps his burning hand around his cock and strokes, hard quick motions that leave no time to pause or collect himself. Jack’s grip is tight and his hips thrust up into the flaming fist, jaw clenched to keep from making any sound louder than a steady whine. Fire shouldn’t feel this good, but it does. He just wants to surround himself with it, feel the flames crawl over his body and consume him. 

Jack strokes himself as close to the edge as he can get without going over, feeling the tension building in his back and deep in his pelvis. There’s just enough left for what he wants, and he squeezes his cock tight, trying to memorize the way it feels right now. His fingers loosen and his palm spreads wide as he throws down the last burst of flames his body has in him. It’s not quite enough but it’s close, and while he arches on the floor as the fire fades, he grips his cock and pumps it again and again until he finally comes. The sound he makes is too loud for his tastes, a rattling moan that crawls out his throat and burns at his cheeks. Jack feels a splatter on his chest and stomach, a little shocked by how far his cum went. He collapses back on the boards and just breathes in, his body painfully hot, despite all the hot air. 

He feels so good despite all that. Jack lifts a hand and touches his belly, rubbing the mess he’s left against his skin. He’ll need a shower to get rid of that, and to get rid of the smell of smoke. It’s still so strong, even though he hasn’t had a cigarette in at least fifteen minutes. He could almost swear that something was on fire right now.

Something is on fire. Jack realizes this as he looks over and spots the flames growing just above his head, coming from the cigarette package. He moves quickly, slapping the flames out with his hand. It hurts and not in the fun sexy way either, scorching his palms as he quickly puts it out before anything else can start on fire. Jack tucks his palms against his sides, hissing a little in pain at how they feel. Shit. He forget to move it far enough away. 

It’s hell getting dressed when his palms are burning and harder still to crawl down the ladder. He heads to the water trough and dunks his hands in it, clenching his teeth as the cold starts to suck out the heat left behind from his burns. Jack glances up at the barn and sighs, making a note to himself to not use Incinerate again. It may have felt nice, but the last thing he wants to do is explain to Tenenbaum how he burnt down the barn because he needed to jerk off. 

There are a lot of things he feels she’s willing to understand, but this sure isn’t one of them.


	4. Target Dummy

The first and last time he tries to use it, Jack finds out a few important things. First, target dummy may not require much EVE to maintain, but that’s because it doesn’t actually do anything but stand there and tentatively look in either direction. The motion isn’t as interesting as he’d hoped for, and it doesn’t respond to its environment at all, which is a shame because he was really hoping it might notice what Jack was doing and respond. 

Second, target dummy is not as attractive as he had hoped it would be. The figure has no real definition to it, just a ghostly appearance that actually gets harder to see details of the closer he gets to it. The way it mutely swings back and forth, cowering from an enemy that never appears, does nothing to inspire Jack’s fantasies. He doesn’t find the idea of someone being afraid of him to be arousing at all, and he can think of much better things if he just closes his eyes and lets his mind wander. 

It’s a disappointment and a waste of a pack of cigarettes. He ends up just heading back to the house early, settling on lying awake for a few hours while he waits for his mind to settle down enough that he can sleep.


	5. Telekinesis

Unlike with the rest of the powers, Jack takes the time to practice with telekinesis first. He had a hard time getting the hang of it in Rapture, settling for roughly grabbing things and propelling them back as quickly as possible, just in case the thing he’d grabbed was a rocket or a grenade. While that sort of imprecision was fine when handling corpses or furniture, he was a little more reluctant to approach his body so haphazardly. 

There’s an unexpected upside to practicing with telekinesis though, and that’s the growing anticipation. Each time he’s able to deftly lift a pencil in the air without throwing it around, or when he’s able to look in a mirror and carefully part his own hair and then comb it back together, he feels the excitement build in his chest. It’s a lot of practice and it’s not exactly fun, by after two dozen packs of smokes, he feels ready to give this a try. 

The barn’s not too comfortable, so he ends up bringing a blanket with him, one that he’s sure nobody will miss. It may not be as good as his bed but it’s better than lying straight on the hardwood, and it makes a more comfortable place to sit as he smokes. He brings a thermos of coffee with him as well, just to wash the taste of tobacco out of his mouth. It seems to help a little with the EVE, or so he thinks. That might just be just in his head. 

Jack debates on how to get settled. Most of the time he’s used the plasmid to practice, he’s been standing or sitting down. But what he’s about to do doesn’t need him to watch, and after a moment or two of debating on convenient positions, he rolls onto his belly. His face is flushing well before he shifts his weight to his knees and raises his ass into the air. The left arm goes for his belt, getting it undone and starting on his pants while he leans on his right arm, spreading his palm wide and concentrating. 

It takes some careful aiming on his part as he feels the invisible touch push against his thigh and ass before he manages to get it where he wants. Jack hisses and jolts a little as he feels the telekinesis tendrils inside of him. They don’t push in - one moment they’re resting on his left cheek and the next he feels them on the inside, a slight but unmistakable pressure in his ass. His left hand gets moving, pulling his cock out and starting to stroke it absently while his right carefully manipulates the sensation inside of him. 

It’s not quite like being fucked, though it’s not like Jack has much experience with that. It feels good though, sort of like having a few fingers inside of him but not really either. The telekinesis is less like a hand and more like a dozen delicate tentacles, able to grasp and prod and to stroke and throw. He’s focusing on the other three options now, hoping the forth doesn’t make an appearance. It’s good so far, and the sensation of something inside of him is there, unavoidable and arousing. The tendrils slowly rubs at the sensitive flesh deep inside of Jack, and he feels the urge to try rock back against it. 

The sensation changes as he takes more control over it, moving from a gentle stroking to a more focused squirming of sorts. He moans against the blanket as the tendrils flare out inside of him, expanding and then retracting, filling him again and again. It twists as well now and then, not just growing large but also stroking him as it does, fucking him in ways he hadn’t thought possible. Jack really wishes he had a hand free to shove in his mouth, especially when he feels the telekinesis inside him flare out and a shocked choppy groan is wrestled out of him. The fingers around his cock try to stroke in time with the expanding sensation in his ass, but it’s hard focus on doing both accurately at the same time. He mostly just squeezes himself, rocking a little on his knees as he ruts into his left fist. 

Jack’s breathing is strained and a little desperate as the telekinesis expands further down, putting pressure on his prostate. Jack knows a little about that from what he’s read in Tenenbaum’s medical texts when she wasn’t looking, but none of them ever mentioned how good it feels to touch it. He’s tried this before with his fingers but he could never get in this deep. Each bit of pressure from the tendrils gets another soft, hungry sound out of Jack. He’s so glad here’s doing this here and not in the house, or somebody would surely hear him. Jack’s face is bright red and each time he clenches his right fist, he moans as the invisible force inside his ass pushes harder against his prostate. 

He changes tactics somewhat, changing the expanding wave inside of him into a more focused series of stroke aimed right the gland inside of him. His body shudders softly with every brush and prod, his body tensing as the building sensation in his cock becomes impossible to ignore. When he’s gone as far as he can stand, his cock hard and shoving against his palm mostly involuntarily, he carefully reaches in with his mind and surrounds his prostate entirely. He hopes this works and he’s not about to do something stupid. Jack takes a deep, shuddering breath, and then gives the small gland a careful squeeze. 

All the air in his lungs comes out half a second later in the form of a loud, desperate cry and his body spasms as he comes on the spot. He buries his face in his blanket and covers his mouth with it, eyes squeezed shut as his world narrows down to the gut punch of pleasure running through his whole body. Like with the electricity, he feels frozen in the aftermath, though this time his muscles are only wound tight over an orgasm. Jack just shakes and barely manages to stay on his knees while he makes a mess in his palm. His brain is a dull roar of ecstasy and the only solid thought he manages to put together is that he thinks this might have been even better than the Electrobolt. 

Jack shakily gets his hand out from under him and collapses on the blanket, unable to do anything else but that. He manages to catch his breath after a moment, and then he stays put, enjoying the liquidy feeling spreading through his torso. That was amazing, miles ahead of what he’s managed the few times he’s put a couple of fingers inside himself. Jack isn’t sure anything can top the way telekinesis felt. 

But he’s got a carton of cigarettes in the rafters, so he thinks he’ll try at least a few other things. First things first though, he needs to get cleaned up, and to stash this blanket somewhere safe. It’s going to come in handy out here.


	6. Winter Blast

There are a few cold days in June, when the temperature drops and Jack finds himself smoking for reasons other than sexual experimentation. Winter Blast has one very nice side-effect, which turns out to be resistance to all kinds of cold. So while the nasty wet weather has everyone else huddled inside, he’s able to do his chores like usual and muck about outside. 

It’s also a chance to test out Winter Blast and see if it has the same effect on him that Incinerate did. That’s when Jack discovers one major downside to his late-night experiments: when you get in trouble, nobody knows where you are and nobody can help you. Not that he necessarily wants anyone to find him, not when he’s frozen to the hayloft floor and any amount of pulling just makes it worse. It was going well until he decided to ice-blast himself and… well. He should have known. This was not one of his brightest moves. 

He’s got enough EVE left that he’s able to get a fire going in his palms, though there’s not enough to blast and melt himself free. Instead, he spends the better part of two hours slowly melting his thighs and groin free of the ice block. Any enjoyment he got out of it is completely ruined and there’s a dull throb in his balls that doesn’t go away even after he gets his pants on. Lesson learned: don’t ice blast any part of himself, ever. 

Jack heads back to his bedroom as the sun starts to come up. It’s going to be a long, cold day. He better hope there’s hot water left in the house because he needs a warm shower. 

There’s one upside to all of this: after the mess with Winter Blast, he decides to skip Sonic Boom entirely. It’s one thing to freeze your junk in ice and another to hit it with gale force winds.


	7. Cyclone Trap

Jack has done a lot of stupid things to his dick, enough that there’s a list in his head of all the plasmids that aren’t any good for him. But for all the dumb things he’s done, he feels pretty confident that as long as he never adds Cyclone Trap to it, he should be fine.


	8. Insect Swarm

To say he’s worried is an understatement. He’s never been stung by his bees, but that doesn’t mean they won’t if they feel threatened. Trying to explain to Tenenbaum why he needed to see her medical texts was embarrassing enough when he thought he might have frostbite and had a possible excuse for that. Asking about bee stings in sensitive areas will be all but admitting what he’s been doing. 

But he wants to know. He’s felt the bees crawl over his arms before and found the sensation to be a fairly pleasant one. Jack can’t help but wonder if it would feel the same to have them crawling lower. He puts it off, trying nearly everything else first and even trying a few things twice. But he’s a curious man. Jack needs to know the answer, even if he’ll regret it later. So once more, he waits until it’s dark out and everyone’s asleep before he heads to the hayloft. He’s nervous, smoking with trembling hands as he tries to assure himself he won’t completely regret this. 

Jack takes off his pants like usual and tugs his sweater over his head, not wanting to have any bees accidentally caught up in it. He can’t figure out where he wants to sit and spends an awful lot of time just setting up. Stalling isn’t doing him any favours and he finally forces himself to sit down and just focus on the EVE burning through his veins. He licks his lips and summons Insect Swarm, feeling the familiar pinching sensation as his skin opens up and forms bee burrows. It’s not the most pleasant thing to look at, but once they open, it doesn’t hurt at all. Jack watches as the big fat honey bees crawl out of the holes in his flesh and make their way lazily along his hands and up his arms. He lets them settled in, making sure they’re calm before he carefully sets his hand on his cock, giving them a way over. 

The first one that crawls on tickles him a little. The bee can barely be felt, her feet lightly walking over his bare flesh. She buzzes softly, sending an invitation to the other bees. His breath catches in his throat as he feels a second join, and a third and a forth, their tiny legs tickling his skin as they cross between his wrist and his cock. He watches intensely, feeling anxious and aroused and maybe something that’s a little of both. The bees crawl around his dick and he carefully moves his fingers out of the way for them. They stop now and then, rubbing their forelegs together and pressing their bodies against his cock, rocking back and forth a little with their stingers in the air as they try to suss out what they’re currently holding onto.

More crawl out of his arm and onto his cock, until there are dozens upon dozens of little bodies moving over him. As they buzz, they vibrate, and the more there are, the more he feels it. The sensation is unique and pleasant, and Jack’s hard as a rock as they scurry across the head, the soft hairs on their bodies brushing over his flesh. He does his best not to make any sound, desperately trying not to startle them in any way. Jack just tightens his free hand in the blankets below him and keeps his arm tilted towards his shaft. 

They don’t just stay on his cock. The bees begin to wander, some choosing to crawl on his thighs or his stomach and trace their patterns there. Others head even further south until Jack is trembling a little with effort as he lets them wander across his balls. His face pulls tight as he bites both lips to stay quiet, the moving mass on his body the only thing he can focus on. The sensation is extraordinary, so many delicate touches everywhere, all at once. 

His attempts to stay silent come to an abrupt end as a bee decides that the wetness at the tip of Jack’s cock must be nectar and she extends her proboscis to drink it up. The desperate moan seems to frighten them a little, causing a few to fly into the air. But they don’t sting him and the honey bee continues to probe the head of his cock, sucking lightly at anything that interests her. Another joins in soon after, and another, until there are a few bees carefully making their way around the head of his cock, drinking the precum leaking out of him. Jack takes a couple of deep strained breaths, forcing his fist to relax before he accidentally rips the blanket up. The few bees flying around finally land again, choosing his chest as a safe place to wander about. His groin is covered in black and yellow striped bugs, and he should be freaking out, but all he can focus on is the unbelievably satisfying way they’re rubbing against him. 

Jack is so hard it hurts, and the vibrations around him and the dozens of light touches are driving him slightly insane. He wants to grip his cock and stroke it hard, but instead he just stays seated and watches the bees crowd his flesh, pushing against each other gently as they try to make their way up and down his shaft. The buzzing sound has gotten lodged in Jack’s mind and he starts to grunt softly as they slowly, carefully push him towards an orgasm. It seems to take forever to reach it and he forces himself to be patient, to enjoy the way they’re touching him ever so perfectly. It’s almost like being touched by someone else entirely. Jack had no idea how much he wanted something like that until this very moment. 

It feels like he’ll never reach that moment when he tips over the edge, but it comes all the same, the careful probing of a few curious bees making his whole body tense up in anticipation. It takes all of his concentration to pull the bees back with his mind, not wanting to hurt any of them even if they feel good. They retreat from the head of his cock just in time as Jack comes with a sharp grunt. The buzzing intensifies and the bees vibrate faster and he crams his left hand in his mouth to keep from making any more sounds. 

Jack doubles over, breathing hard and trembling as his cock twitches with each spurt, until finally there’s nothing left to come out. The bees keep on moving over his flesh through it all, dragging out the orgasm until he feels empty. He stays bent like that as the bees slowly crawl up his body and back into his arm, nesting in his flesh. The sensation should be terrible but it’s comforting instead, knowing they’re as sated and happy as he is. 

Jack’s so wrapped up in the afterglow and pleasure of what just happened that he doesn’t hear the barn door open. It’s only Tenenbaum’s voice that catches his attention, turning the afterglow into cold terror. “Jack, are you here?” 

He desperately racks his brain for a solution. His clothes are too far away to get on without making any sound, and even if he could, there’s the mess up here to clean up. But he can’t stay quiet either and risk having her look upstairs. Jack’s feeling desperate now. There’s a shot of EVE left in his veins but it’s not much. He does the only thing he can think to do and reaches for the one thing that might save him, pulling Target Dummy up and throwing him downstairs, in the corral outside. 

“Jack?” She turns toward the ghostly figure, opening the door and stepping outside. That gives him time to shove his pants back on and get them done up, yanking his sweater on next. The blanket’s kicked over the mess he made and he quickly heads down the ladder, hoping he doesn’t smell too much like he was just messing with himself. 

He pulls the target dummy away and sticks his head out the door. “Sorry, I was working on something. Is anything wrong.” Jack hopes she doesn’t wonder too much about the Target Dummy, and hopes even more that she doesn’t recognize what it was. 

Tenenbaum lifts her lamp higher, and the look she gives Jack makes him afraid for a moment. Does she know what he’s been doing? He really, really hopes she doesn’t. Her eyes remain skeptical as she steps near him, speaking softly. “Have you been smoking?” 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry.” There’s no point in denying that. Better to be caught smoking than have her realize the reason reason he’s been doing it. “I’ve been trying to get out of the habit but… it’s hard not to.” 

She doesn’t soften, but she does lower the lantern a little. “We all have our vices. Smoking is not so bad. But stop skulking around. I do not like when you disappear without any words.” 

It’s the closest he’s ever heard her come to saying that she worries about him. Jack just nods, wiping his hands on his pants. “Alright, that’s fair. I’ll let you know when I come out here. Is it okay if I leave a note?” 

“That is… acceptable.” Tenenbaum agrees. The lantern all but hangs by her side, illuminating the ground below them but leaving their faces in shadows. “Will you be here much longer?”

“No, I’m just finishing up. The tack room’s nearly done being organized.” That’s not a total lie. It did need organization, though he did that a few days ago. He figures it’s the easiest thing to say rather than ‘sorry I need to clean up the mess I made while jerking off’. “I’ll be there.”

“Good. And wash your clothes. They stink.” She wrinkles her nose a little and heads out of the barn without another word. Jack waits until the light fades before he lets himself relax. That went much better than expected. There’s still a mess to take care of. A load of laundry sounds about right, especially if he wants to keep that blanket clean and ready for next time. Assuming there is a next time. 

Jack sighs and climbs the ladder, his legs still a little unsteady. He knows damn well there will be a next time. So long as doing this lets him sleep well, he’ll keep doing it. And it’s better to do it here than in the house.


End file.
